


One-Shot Prompt Collection

by Hime_no_Kowai_Shumi



Category: NCIS
Genre: Multi, past self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 09:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hime_no_Kowai_Shumi/pseuds/Hime_no_Kowai_Shumi
Summary: A collection of dialogue prompts. Jen/Abby, Gibbs/Abby, Gibbs/Jen. Trigger warnings inside.





	One-Shot Prompt Collection

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Found the prompts on Pinterest. The first quote is the dialogue prompt, and each pairing has 4 non-connecting drabbles. Trigger warning in the 8th section, which I've indicated. Enjoy!

**Jen/Abby**

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

She spares Ziva a glance before focusing back on Abby and McGee. She didn’t like the way he danced with her, his hands too far low on her back, didn’t like how Abby was laughing at something he said. All she wanted to do was march over to them and take Abby into her arms, to show McGee just who the beautiful Goth belonged to, but this was a work function, and she knew she couldn’t.

She took a sip of her wine.

“Of course not.” 

* * *

“I don’t even know what a peaceful night’s sleep is anymore.”

Abby’s words are muffled into her neck, and she doesn’t bother looking at the clock, knowing that it’s far too early in the morning to be awake. She’d been asleep when Abby’s tossing and turning had woken her, and she’d immediately pulled her into her arms, if only to stop her from moving again. She feels Abby’s lips against her neck, and smiles softly, pulls back so she can kiss her properly.

“Let me help you sleep.” 

* * *

 “Ok, so don’t freak out, but I got flour everywhere.”

Jen looks around the kitchen, blinks once, and has to stifle her laugh behind her hand. She doesn’t move from beside the kitchen island, unsure of the strange reaction. Jen steps into the room, her lips quirked in an amused smile.

“It really is everywhere,” the redhead comments, and then she steps closer, brushing her hand against her cheek, coming away with flour, “What were you trying to do?”

“Make bread. I put too much flour in the bowl and it got…”

“Everywhere,” Jen finishes, “Go ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll start cleaning up.”

“You aren’t mad?” She hates how small her voice sounds.

“Just an accident,” Jen coos softly, “I’m not mad.” 

* * *

“You’re very endearing when you’re half-asleep.”

Vaguely, she can make out Jenny’s words, and a smile finds its way onto her face.

“I’m endearing all the time.”

Jen hums in agreement, and she lets her fingers continue to wander against her skin.

“Not at work. Not with me.” Jen’s voice is soft, a whisper to herself, but she could pick it up easily in the silence.

The statement was true, of course. At work, Jen put on a different persona. The boss, the Ice Queen. Here though, in private, she could let her walls down, allow the Director mask to crack. She could just be Jenny.

She snakes her arms around Jen’s waist, presses light kisses to her neck.

“Don’t worry, Madame Director,” the nickname earns her a low growl in annoyance, “I’ll always be right here.” 

* * *

 

**Gibbs/Abby**

“Shhh, it’s just a bad dream. Just a dream, ok? None of it was real.”

Abby shifts against him, and he can feel her heart beating erratically. He strokes her hair slowly, his other hand signing against her back. She’s been having a lot of nightmares since he got back from Paraguay, more than he had. He’s encouraged her to talk to Dr. Confalone, but she never seems interested. Hell, she wouldn’t talk to him about it, and they shared practically everything together.

_Tighter than blood_. That’s what they were. And yet she was afraid to open up about the nightmares.

“It felt real,” her words are mumbled against his neck, the tears evident in her voice, and he holds her tighter, “Gibbs…”

“Right here.”

She lets out a sob, and all he can do is hold her, wishing, praying that the terrors would stop holding her mind hostage so she could get a good night’s sleep. 

* * *

 “Is that my shirt?”

From her spot on the basement steps, she watches as he puts the tools down, and she smiles, moving towards him.

“Couldn’t find my Marine shirt.” The cotton of his blue work shirt ends mid-thigh, the material soft. She’s not sure why she hasn’t tried to steal his work shirts before. He hums in reply, taking her into his arms.

His voice is low against her ear, sending shivers along her spine, heat resting below her naval, “You look good in my shirt.”

She presses their lips together. 

* * *

 “I can sleep when I’m dead.”

She rolls her eyes, turns back to her computer, “Uh-huh.”

He places a hand on hers, leaning in, “But you need to sleep, Abby.”

She could sleep when she was dead too. She had too much evidence to process right now.

“I’m fine.”

“When’s the last time you slept, Abbs?”

Oh, like he didn’t know. She doesn’t answer, and he moves his hands to her shoulders, kneading them gently. Her eyes flutter closed, and she relaxes against him.

“Gibbs…”

“Shh,” he mutters, “just a couple hours.”

Maybe a couple hours wouldn’t hurt. Major Mass Spec was working on the blood analysis anyway. Wordlessly, she nods. Settling on her futon, she feels his eyes on her, letting his presence lull her to sleep. 

* * *

  **Mention of past cutting, depression**

 “Why did you do it? Tell me.”

His fingers run over the lines on her wrists, faded scars from years past. Sitting at his desk, unable to look at him, she sighs. How could she begin to explain that despite her bubbly exterior, she needed pills to make the day bearable? That when she was younger, she took a different route to get happy? He wouldn’t understand.

She bites her lip, “It was a long time ago, Gibbs.”

“Why?” He implores, a mix of desperation and sadness in his voice, and she swallows roughly.

“It was all I could do.”

He presses a soft kiss to her temple, his voice soft, “I love you, Abby. Always.”

She chokes back a sob, “I love you too.” 

* * *

 

**Gibbs/Jen**

 “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while.”

Jethro curses under his breath, hitting the CALL button again. Static comes through the comm, and she releases a low sigh. She pulls out her phone, praying for a bar so she can make a call, send a text, something besides waiting.

They didn’t have time for this, she kne _w._ The case was time sensitive, and this was wasting time.

“Damn it,” Jethro growls, flipping the emergency stop on and off.

“That’s not helping,” He glares at her, and she resists the urge to smile. “Take a breath and relax.” 

* * *

 “Well, this is just great.”

He looks up from the bed, a lazy smile on his lips. His eyes trace along the curve of her back, taking in the stress in her shoulders. When he’d agreed to accompany her for this conference, he hadn’t been anticipating much besides boring meetings. This, though, was interesting.

“It’s fine.”

“Our return flight is another three days out. I didn’t pack that many clothes, Jethro.”

He tries and fails not to smirk.

“It’s fine.” He repeats. “Worry in the morning.”

“Jethro…”

“Come back to bed.” 

* * *

 “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighs at the question, unsure how to answer it. Shannon and Kelly were his world, and when they first met, it still hurt too much. He’d told Diane, Rebecca, Stephanie. But to tell Jen? Every woman he’d ever told had left him, though not because of it. What had Diane said? _It was hard being a human anti-depressant._ He didn’t want Jen to end up like his ex-wives, resenting him, loving him but unable to get past him pushing them away. He couldn’t…

“Rule 4.”

This time, she sighs, turns her chair to look out the window. She’s silent, contemplating. He doesn’t try to break her concentration.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she replies, one word, “Ok.”

* * *

“Old age seems to get the better of us.”

Jethro sighs softly, runs a hand over his face as he leans back in his chair.

“Yeah? Still gotta do my job.”

The squad room is dark except for the light on his desk. It’s late, later than either of them should still be here, but neither really cared. Late nights seemed to be the norm when even though the case is closed, things still don’t add up.

She stands in front of his desk, smiles because even after all these years, not much has changed.

“It’s late. You can pick back up in the morning.”

He frowns softly, looks up at her, “Jenny…”

“Come on, Special Agent Gibbs. That’s an order.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he starts to pack up for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review.


End file.
